


Let Me See You, in All that You Are

by maleficaster



Series: Shuake Week 2020 [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe, Brief references/appearances of other characters, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Masks, Metaverse Masks, Not Beta Read, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27607211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maleficaster/pseuds/maleficaster
Summary: Yet what makes his breath stop is another mask shift, a white mask fitting onto Kurusu’s face with prominent scars running below in perfect cohesion. Beneath the mask, his silver eyes are sharp, like they see the truth of a person: their personality, their secrets, their life stories, and it makes Goro wonder how exposed he had truly been when Kurusu had been wearing Goro’s own mask.-[Or, Goro Akechi has always been able to see the masks people wear. It takes longer for him to realize their connection to the metaverse, and even longer to meet someone with an unusual assortment of masks…]
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: Shuake Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017268
Comments: 11
Kudos: 149
Collections: Quality Persona Fics





	Let Me See You, in All that You Are

When he rounds the corner, Goro is expecting to see three individuals with three distinct masks, potential suspects if he can see the scars of rebellion, proud displays of the acquisition of their persona, running just below the bottom of each mask. As he begins to speak, lines already rehearsed in his head, he examines two two blondes briefly: they’ve clearly been to the metaverse, ragged scars lining the twists of the boy’s skull mask, a smooth line following the bottom of the girl’s.

It’s the third who startles him.

It’s a boy with black curly hair which frames his face and falls over the mask, behind which the light seems to reflect the hint of glasses that Goro cannot see. On his own he doesn’t look like he would be a potential suspect with the lack of scars on his features, but it is his mask that startles Goro, for it matches the cat mask the girl next to him wears.

Goro stumbles his way through the conversation, his practiced mannerisms and previous eavesdropping the only way he makes it through without expressing his own confusion. He has never seen two people with the same mask; he will get to the bottom of this.

***

When Goro sees the boy on his lonesome he seizes the opportunity to speak with him to start getting to the bottom of this mystery of matching masks. From the distance, where Goro can only see the side of his face, he does not see the bright red mask from before, but a silver one that Goro suspects might have been the other boy’s mask. 

Goro speaks to reintroduce himself, and as the boy’s eyes meet his, the mask changes again and Goro has to resist the urge to take a step back with the long nose an inch away from the end of his own mask. Does his mask change to reflect who he’s speaking to? 

Beneath the shadows of the boy’s changed mask, Goro thinks he can make out the hint of a rise of scars, the lines weaving in and out of the darkened view. It makes sense, for the scars to be there, for them to be partially hidden by any masks other than his own. 

To speak with someone who will attempt to match and dodge him will be a challenge, but as Goro shakes the boy’s– Akira Kurusu’s hand, he imagines it will be an interesting one.

***

Goro Akechi decides to always appear as if he arrives a minute later than Kurusu, punctual but never beating him. While if it were anyone else Goro would be ashamed or ridiculed for being late, it’s worth doing with Kurusu, if only because he can see the wide variety of masks he wears, never switching until he and Kurusu begin to speak. The first time he sees Kurusu waiting, he’s treated to a plague doctor’s mask covering his whole face, the next appearing as a fox. Another time it’s a metal band, then alien goggles, then the skull mask from before. 

For their first meeting Kurusu’s mask switches to Goro’s Robin Hood mask, long red nose scratching his phone as he checks the time, bumping into the cue stick on occasion. It’s the same at the start of their cafe meeting, frosting scraped off his desert and hanging off the edge, unnoticeable to anyone but him.

As the fangirls begin to gawk and stare, phones ready to snap a photo of his public appearance, Kurusu is quick to grab one of his hands in a loose grip and drags him towards the bathroom. Kurusu turns him so he faces the mirror, Kurusu standing in front of him as he ruffles his hair with both his hands, before Kurusu switches to threading his fingers in the bunches of strands, shifting them with the purposeful eye of a hairstylist that also seeks to create chaos with one of their co-workers. The sensation itself, after the initial roughness of both his hands, is nice. The tugs against his head are gentle, reminding him of distant days and it’s tempting to close his eyes and lose himself in the feeling and memories. 

But then Kurusu’s hands fall away, and Kurusu tilts his head with narrowed eyes on Goro. After a moment he nods and reaches for his face, grabbing at something and pulling it away. In his hands, Goro actually sees the glasses, black and thick-rimmed, giant lenses to fill in the gap. When Goro looks back up at Kurusu he moves to place the glasses on Goro’s face, fingers back in his hair and hints of Akira’s breath on his cheek from leaning in just a little too close. Yet what makes his breath stop is another mask shift, a white mask fitting onto Kurusu’s face with prominent scars running below in perfect cohesion. Beneath the mask, his silver eyes are sharp, like they see the truth of a person: their personality, their secrets, their life stories, and it makes Goro wonder how exposed he had truly been when Kurusu had been wearing Goro’s own mask. 

_How exposed does Kurusu feel now,_ he wonders, _how does it feel to put on your most honest face before the enemy?_

Goro breathes again, and as their time at the cafe resumes, he waits with bated breath for the return of the Robin Hood mask, waits to see when Kurusu will reestablish his guard around him, watches with trepidation as puts back on his glasses, slipping just beneath the mask and out of sight, and still the mask does not change back.

Every time after, when Kurusu speaks with Goro, he does not wear one of Goro’s masks. Kurusu wears his own.

***

He knows he’s been outwitted the second he walks into the interrogation room. No one else sees the masks like Goro does, so a cognition built by any other will not showcase the person’s disguise. It’s the first time Goro sees Kurusu without a mask, beaten and bruised with a crack in the lenses of the glass. 

With the glasses on, Goro sees how Kurusu had been trying to hide, using the way they reflect the light, with how the crack runs from frame edge to center, the view of his eyes is obscured in a way his white mask would never allow. Kurusu’s eyes thrum with fire, blazing with his pursuit of justice and never looking back, a piercing gaze that would allow no lies to slip through his view, all of which would terrify the weak-willed. It’s a gaze Goro has seen often.

He shoots the cognition without any hesitation, for this is a false mask that Kurusu wears and all Goro wants to do is shatter it.

***

“We’re stopping Maruki.”

It’s the first time Goro has seen Kurusu speak to him with a mask other than his own in months, the black mask hiding Kurusu’s face from view, the red lenses only allowing Kurusu to drift further away from his honesty. 

He doesn’t think about it before he grabs Kurusu by the lapels of his coat and drags him closer, metal butting against metal. “Are you saying that to appease me and plan to back out anyway or do you really mean that?” He hisses out. “Don’t hide from me now.”

Goro sees Kurusu’s eyes widen from beneath the mask, before it bursts into blue heatless flame and his own mask reappears. “I…” he whispers, but looks away from Goro and towards the counter. “We are. I mean it.”

“You’re hiding something,” Goro growls and digs his fingers further into the wool fabric. “It better not get in the way.” 

Kurusu looks back at Goro with a head on stare. “I’m not hiding anything,” Kurusu says as Loki’s mask reappears over his features. “I don’t know why you suddenly think I am.” 

“Stop lying–”

“Akechi.” Kurusu reaches up and grips one of his wrists, tugs it in an attempt to pull his hand away but Goro doesn’t loosen his grip. “What do you want from me? I don’t know what you’re looking for.”

“I would prefer there be no room for hesitation, Kurusu, and I believe you might have a reason to change your mind.”

“We all have a reason to change our mind,” he counters. “But there is no reason to believe I really would without any evidence.” 

Goro watches Kurusu for a minute, it’s hard to see but he’s sure Kurusu is determined, if it’s to see this through or to hide his secret Goro isn’t sure. He waits, then lets go of Kurusu’s jacket and takes a step back. “I see. Just remember, I will never accept this form of reality. I am done being manipulated.” Even by you, right now, Goro thinks. “Let’s go back… to our true reality.” 

***

Goro wakes up in the middle of the night to the buzzing of his phone next to his ear, considers ignoring it but decides to look at the notifications.

**Akira Kurusu:** i thought about what you said earlier.

**Akira Kurusu:** i was trying to think about what evidence you had to think i was hiding something. and then i realized something...

**Akira Kurusu:** akechi, do you see them, too?

**Goro Akechi:** See what?

**Akira Kurusu:** nvm

**Akira Kurusu:** if you don’t know what i mean you probably don’t

Goro tsks and presses the call button with his thumb and puts the ear to his phone. While he waits through the first ring he sits up, moving the pillow against the wall to lean against it. Kurusu picks up on the second ring.

“I see people’s masks, Kurusu. It’s difficult to confirm if you see the same thing when you decide to be cryptic.” 

Kurusu doesn’t say anything for a minute on the other end of the line, but Goro hears him breathing, a deep but steady rhythm and Goro waits. “I see,” is all Kurusu says for a long moment. “Then you know I switch to other people’s masks.”

“And I also know you haven’t used my own mask in months,” Goro responds. “What are you hiding?”

“Akechi, don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want answers,” Goro retorts. “You are unlike anyone I have ever met... At some point I realized I wanted to learn everything about you. To put it plainly it pisses me off you would hide something at such a pivotal moment. Do not hide from me.”

There is silence once more, and while Goro waits for a response he imagines Kurusu’s fingers twirling with his curls, eyes focused on a singular point across the room, in the way that he always was when he was contemplative. Goro, for a brief second, pictures himself there, sitting next to Kurusu, pulling his fidgeting hand away from his head before he accidentally starts to pull out individual strands, letting Akira instead turn his ungloved hand over and over, face filled with unhidden intrigue, and Goro shakes his head to remind himself of reality and glances at the window by his bed, curtains closed. 

“...This isn’t a conversation most people like to have on the phone.”

“We are having this conversation,” Goro reiterates. 

Once more Kurusu’s breaths are all he hears on his end of the line. Someone deep in thought, preparing themselves to spill a secret at Goro’s insistence, and Goro waits, and waits. He will not back down now.

Finally, Kurusu says: “Do you know why you were my wish for this reality?”

“I know you have a savior complex, and with that in mind it should be no surprise you would want to save me, even if you shouldn’t,” Goro replies. There can be no other answer, for anything but that is far too unrealistic.

“No. That’s wrong.” He pauses. Goro freezes on a shaky inhale. “If you really want the real answer,” Kurusu whispers into the receiver, “come to Leblanc.”

Then Kurusu hangs up the phone before Goro can say a word. He pulls the phone away from his ear, looks at the call time blinking at him. He closes the screen and dials a taxi.

***

The lights lining the alley before Leblanc are few and far between, each one dim and some flickering in and out of existence. Leblanc itself is dark, and Goro wonders if Kurusu had believed he wouldn’t come, had simply gone back to sleep and pretended as if their conversation had never happened.

Yet as he approaches the door, he can make out a faint glow through the foggy glass. He knocks twice and the light turns off, and he notices a hint of movement and a shape getting closer and closer, until the door opens and Kurusu stares at him, eyes wide under his white mask. 

“You came,” Kurusu says, frosty air escaping with the two words. 

“I did.” Goro adjusts his scarf.

Kurusu steps aside to let Goro through and he takes three steps in, standing by his usual seat as he hears the bell chime signalling the door closing. Goro’s unsure if he should sit, act as if he is here for a long visit or a short one. Before he can decide Kurusu is in front of him, closer to him than when Goro had dragged him closer earlier that day. Kurusu’s eyes flick away from him, but Goro feels every exhale against his lips, watches as Kurusu licks his lips and turns back to him with a determined gaze. 

Kurusu lifts his hand and moves Goro’s mask aside, letting it hang off the top of his head so that Kurusu’s hand can caress his cheek. It’s cold from the lack of heat in the room and without thinking Goro leans his head into the hand just a little more, lifts his own hand to cover Kurusu’s. He closes his eyes, breathes in, realizing how stupid he’s been, feels warmth flood his cheeks. Is this the answer he sought? Does he leave now before they make a mistake? 

“Look at me,” Kurusu whispers. 

Goro doesn’t open his eyes yet, a war with himself on how to respond to what he imagines. Maybe he is being delusional, hopeful in a way he should not be, but by Kurusu he feels more alive than ever even if he is dead.

“Kurusu–”

“Akira,” he corrects. 

“Akira,” the name is honey on Goro’s tongue, a boon he should never have, and he looks at Akira, who smiles at the use of his given name. “This is an awful idea.”

“Maybe,” Akira says; the smile doesn’t fade, the warmth still lingers, and Akira only looks at him with certainty. “But it is our last chance for honesty. If you don’t want it, then go, but I want to tell you the truth, if you’ll let me.”

Goro doesn’t move away, even if he knows that he should. Instead, he lifts his other hand to reach for Akira’s mask, pushing it so that it is buried in his curls, letting Goro see Akira’s face. The glasses are gone. There is nothing for Akira to hide behind, and maybe it’s selfish but Goro prefers Akira this way. 

“I want to know all that you are.” Goro’s hand moves to rest behind Akira, plays idly with the hair at the base of his neck. “So tell me.”

A couple of breaths instead of words, hearts beating as one. “I like you,” Akira whispers and Goro pulls him closer as Akira propels himself forward to kiss him. 

The first one is short and sweet, a taste of eternity lost, but they’re quick to meet again, each longer than the last, hands wandering to find the best places to settle, drawing the other closer with each movement. For the chill that had filled Leblanc when he arrived, the room felt impossibly warm, like the summer sun yet all he could feel was him and Akira together, and the heat lingering as the two pulled away once more, panting as they pressed their foreheads together. 

“Spend the night here?” Akira asks. “To actually sleep, I mean,” he quickly adds on.

“I believe your cat would throw a fit if I stayed here.” Goro huffs.

“Oh, I dropped him off at Futaba’s place after you called,” Akira chuckles. “Well, he’ll be mad in the morning. But I’d rather wake up with you there. If that’s okay.”

Goro indulges himself with a quick peck to Akira’s lips before pulling back. Tomorrow, he can wake up from this dream, just before their masks are set back in place, just before they leave to seal their fates and return the world to what it must be. He is not afraid of dying, has not been afraid of it for years, but with this, Goro thinks he can die in peace. “That sounds nice.”

“Good,” Akira yawns, takes his hand and pulls Goro to the stairs. “We really do need to sleep…” he mutters.

Once upstairs, Goro sets his coat and scarf on the railing before Akira drags him to the small mattress in the corner of the room, falling onto the mattress and scooting over to make enough space for Goro to fit in. Without protest he follows, moving closer and wraps his arms around Akira’s waist, feels as Akira moves one of his legs over his and wraps an arm around him, and rests his head near Akira’s chest. 

Akira’s heartbeat races beneath his ear, yet it calms Goro and reminds him that Akira will survive through tomorrow and everyday after, wearing other people’s masks to appease himself to them. Goro will die with the truth of Akira Kurusu deep within his chest, something allowed only to him. Another selfish thought fills him, and it’s easy to accept that Goro hopes that it will always be between only them, and no one else.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> I’m also on twitter @maleficaster


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